Try
by ChasingRainbows90
Summary: Some (hopefully) Jac / Jonny fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**This originally was going to be a one shot but then it got long and so I've split it in to two (part 2 is shorter though - and already written). This somewhat retcons from the end of Divided We Fall. I hope it's ok :)**

The change in her is subtle. He can't quite pinpoint the moment it occurred, having become interested in the strands of conversation that were carrying on around him in the operating theatre. He had felt relieved, having seen the hint of a smile play on her lips before she had made that first incision. For a moment, he had allowed himself to think that perhaps this would all work out, that things would be alright because she seemed happy and he had smiled back at her in return. Then he had become aware that she had grown quiet, not the usual quiet that came with her concentration but a quiet that unnerved him. That was when he had turned to look at her properly once more, and seen how the smile had turned ghostly like she was desperately trying to keep it up but it felt like a shadow of the one before. It was when she had glanced up that he had felt his heart drop. He could see it in her eyes, the panic. There was an argument raging in her mind – fight or flight – though for what she would be fighting he wasn't sure, most likely against herself more than him though it would project itself his way. And yet looking at her, taking in those changes, it seemed to him that fight wasn't winning. He could see it in her, and that scared him. Because he knew – she was going to take flight.

* * *

She disappears quickly from the operating theatre. As soon as her work is complete she is gone, but he is very much expecting that. He watches her, keeps tabs on her until their shifts have ended as he tries to work out what he is going to do. Though he is near certain that she is plotting her escape – though he suspects this is not quite a conscious planning effort, he cannot be sure of her true intentions. Whether she plans to disappear for eternity, taking with her their child or whether she just needs sometime to herself. He is not sure which scenario scares him most. To lose his child when he has just learned of its existence is painful; to think of his son or daughter growing up away from him, never to see their face or hear their laughter. He would search for her, for them he is certain of that but he knows that if she didn't want to be found, he would never do so. But the other option is equally frightening, to leave her with time to think, to dwell. He knows so little of her, of what made her the woman she is today but he knows enough to know that within her head exists thoughts and places so dark that they could swallow her whole, sucking her in to the void. Time alone, with her thoughts, could be enough to do that, for her to become lost within those places. For those voices to convince her of half-truths and lies which she'll come to see as concrete facts. He saw it as she had stood over the girl on the table, their work starting. He could lose them both in this way. And yet he knows he could be jumping to conclusions, panicking when he has no need to but the hammering of his heart tells him differently.

* * *

"We need to talk" he catches up to her outside of the hospital, both of their shifts now finished. They are both tired from the long day and yet she moves quickly towards her car. His movements are more sluggish and he finds it harder to keep up with her, though he forces himself to do so. He cannot let her go and yet he does not know how to get her to stay. Already he sees barriers have once again risen against him when earlier he had seen them tumble.

She barely acknowledges that he has spoken, though there is nothing in the still night to steal his voice. She keeps her eyes fixed ahead, focused on her destination. She is unsure, her mind a tumultuous jumble of thoughts and ideas that she just cannot make sense of. Thoughts move too quickly, and yet despite never settling they unnerve her. She can recall only snatches of the things that pass through her mind, and yet these are enough to panic her, to cause doubt to constrict her chest making breathing so much harder. She feels walls pushing in on her. He is not overly close, and yet his presence is overbearing in her ever shrinking world. There is too much, and she is tired. Too tired to fight, though that is her usually her natural instinct but to fight means things she cannot quite accept nor is she certain who or what she would even be attempting to fight. Still she knows they are big, too big within the decreasing space. She needs an escape, though she doesn't quite know what that means or how to get it. It is instinct that she has to follow, though instinct, she knows, cannot always be trusted especially her own.

He repeats the words and watches as she shakes her head, hair swishing as she does so. She knows he is right, but now she cannot face it, not in this moment at least. There is so much which needs to be said, but she can't trust herself to say them, doesn't quite know what needs to be said or done if she is honest. She gets to her car, doesn't speak to him just gets inside and drives leaving him watching.

* * *

He isn't sure what makes him do it, but in spite of his tiredness, of wanting nothing more than to slip in to his bed and sleep, he follows her. Follows her on the drive to her flat and watches as she slips inside the building. So much of him is telling him to leave, knowing she is within her home, that logically she is as tired – if not more so due to the child she is growing – than him and that she will be headed straight to her bed as he should be. And yet something makes him stay. Some part of him refuses to pull the car away from the kerb, instead switching of the engine as he watches the building door.

He knows he could go and knock on her door, but he worries what the effect of doing so will be. The idea of facing a door slamming in his face, when things had seemed so positive earlier he isn't sure he can face the complete demolition of that ideal. For now at least he can hang on to the tiniest remnants of those feelings, as he sits here contemplating.

* * *

He doesn't know for how long he sits there, only that the opening of the door to her building causes a rush of adrenaline through his veins. The sight of her emerging causes his heart rate to increase, and despite his tiredness he shifts himself more upright in his seat. She doesn't appear to notice that he is there watching. His eye is drawn to the fact she is toting a bag with her, that she seems to struggle with it and he has to force himself to stay still rather than rushing to her aid. She wouldn't appreciate that, though he longs to help her. It is a relief – though minor – that the bag is small. It cannot contain her entire life – or even enough for her to start a new life elsewhere. But it does mean she is leaving, even if it is only temporary. He wonders how she could have arranged to do so at such short notice, whether she has called in sick or simply won't turn up. She so rarely seems to take leave that she is probably owed a great deal but the amount of notice she will have given makes this seem unlikely to him. He watches as she gets behind the wheel of her car, and pulls away. He finds himself pulling away after her, following her to wherever it is she'll go though what he'll do when they arrive at her destination he has no idea.

* * *

She drives without really knowing where she is going to end up. She doesn't really pay attention to the road, or the change landscape around her. She drives while her mind continues to race, her body weary and unable to keep up with it. She knows she'll have to stop soon because it's getting dangerous to continue with eyes trying desperately to close and submit to sleep. She doubts though that she'd sleep, or at least not restfully, not with a mind acting as hers is. Still it would be just her luck to end up falling asleep here, on a motorway in a place she cannot quite identify.

* * *

Finally he sees her car pulling to a stop. He has little idea where they are, and he doubts he has ever ventured this far south in the country. He has spent his time with eyes fixed on her car, driving to keep far enough back that she won't spot him but close enough that he wouldn't lose sight of her. Something which was easier when she'd been driving along the motorway but became much harder when she'd pulled off and ended up on twisting country lanes. He knew at the very least they were somewhere near the sea. He had seen it out of the corner of her eye while pulling over a bridge near a pub but his gaze had not lingered long on the still waters under the black sky.

She makes her way in to a B&B. It has a sign in the window stating they have vacancies and for that he is grateful though he wonders if perhaps he should choose another but he is beyond exhausted now and just wants a bed rather than traipsing this darkened street to find another place in which he can get a room. He waits what he presumes will be long enough for her to get a room. He is grateful that he has a change of clothes in the back of his car. He grabs the bag along with the one containing his things from work and makes his way in to the building where he is greeted with a tired smile, and a comment about how it is rare to have two late night visitors so close together. He is almost certain he sees a cheeky twinkle in the woman's eyes and he wonders what is going through her head about the man and the woman who have arrived so close together and yet seem to be separate.

They don't make small talk for long before she hands him a room key and gives him directions to the place where he can finally rest his head. He needs to sleep in order to prepare for whatever will come tomorrow or perhaps even today; he doesn't have his watch on and cannot see whether the clock has flicked passed midnight though he has little doubt that it has. Unlike the prince he has managed to chase his Cinderella though he has no glass slipper. The woman calls breakfast information out to him as he walks away.

* * *

He awakens disorientated and unable to work out why he is sleeping in the clothes he had been wearing the previous day and why he is in an unfamiliar room. He is certain he hasn't found himself spending the night with a woman, partly due to his body still being clothed but equally he hasn't had much time for women over the past few months – or women other than the red headed consultant who haunts his thoughts. His mind settles on her, and memories slip back in to his mind. The drive in the dead of night following her car, and this room is in a B&B. She is somewhere here too. He hopes she hasn't stepped outside, that she won't have noticed his car. He moves his head to look at the clock, blinking slightly in disbelief at the hour and knowing he needs to move if he wants to grab himself some breakfast. He is grateful for the fact he was never scheduled to work today and that he won't look at his phone to find numerous messages asking why he has not turned up for his shift. He isn't sure how he would explain this.

He shifts his body, and moves in to the small ensuite where he freshens himself before changing from the bedraggled clothes in to those which are only slightly less crumpled having been stuffed in a bag in his car for a length of time he cannot quite determine.

* * *

He finds himself sitting in a little room. It is cosy, and he is certain for those looking for some sort of retreat it has a special sort of charm but he is on edge. He wonders if she has already been down but he daren't ask, for the question would probably get back to her – and even in a place where they are anonymous he is sure it would rouse her annoyance. He has positioned himself, so that he has a clear view of the entryway. He pays little attention to the actions of moving food from the plate to his mouth.

He hears a soft voice, he thinks it may be the same woman he had met last night though he isn't certain. She is enquiring gently as to how one of the patrons feels, remarking on their pale skin though he thinks he can hear the hint of something more in her tone; a suspicion. His heart quickens at the voice that responds, the voice that offers little to the woman but now he understands. The woman has guessed though he is unsure as to how. He wonders if she knows it, whether it's irked her that her secret isn't quite as secret as she would like.

Time appears to freeze as he waits for her to appear. He doesn't know how she'll react, or how he'll react either but there isn't nothing he can do now to prevent this moment. He hears the sound of footsteps, and then she is there. She looks tired, with bags beneath her eyes and her pale skin. She appears vulnerable.

It takes her a moment to realise she is not the only person in the room, even longer to actually realise the man sitting there is him and not his doppelganger. She doesn't quite understand how or why he is sitting there, eating and seemingly looking like he has no cares in this world. She doesn't quite want to face him and yet she cannot seem to pull away either. He offers her a small smile, and she thinks, wishes, she could give one in return but smiling is not something she feels capable of right now. She moves that little bit closer in to the room, though she is suddenly aware that she is not hungry.

He indicates for her to sit, and aware that her head has chosen to spin – and not just with thoughts chasing around – she does so. She can feel his eyes on her, and it makes her uncomfortable. It makes her uncomfortable to know he has followed her here, and yet there is something about that, that makes her feel something she doesn't quite understand.

He takes a sip of the coffee, and the smell assaults her nostrils. It is a smell she normally found comforting and yet today is causes the churning in her stomach to increase its intensity. He puts down his cup, and she can see the concern painted on his face in the instant before she closes her eyes and tries to push away the feeling of nausea that has settled over her.

She knows she cannot sit with him, not now that smell appears to have filled the entire room. She pushes away from the table without a word, turns and walks back in to direction of her room and hoping that the churning does not reach its peak before she can hide herself away. She moves almost blindly, one hand snaking back to grab her hair in to a ponytail, to contain it. The other poised with the key to unlock the door.

* * *

He pushes on the door having followed close behind her. He isn't surprised that she hasn't quite managed to close the door over properly. He enters the room cautiously, but fuelled by his need to check that she is alright. He steps in to the room, its layout so very similar to the one he himself had slept it. In fact he is fairly certain it's the room next door to his. He steps towards the little ensuite, and finds her huddled against the toilet; body shaking and face pale. At the sound of footsteps, he sees her face colour with embarrassment at having been found in this state. He comes to a halt by her side kneeling so he is level with her. Tentatively he places an arm around her, guiding her body until it falls against his, surprised by how she allows this to occur without resistance. He is sure that one her strength is recovered she will push away from him once more but for the moment her relishes the feel of her body so close to his.

"When did this start?" he speaks quietly, not wanting to jar her, but wanting to know all the same. He wants her to know that these are the things she should tell him, so that he can support her. In many ways he needs her to know that he cares about her.

"it's nothing" is the answer that comes in a hoarse voice, "the smell of your coffee, it was just" she struggles to put in to words what he had done to her senses. She doesn't want him to think it's anything more than this, doesn't want him to think it is the start of something because she herself doesn't want to accept it. She is ill so rarely that the prospect of becoming familiar with porcelain toilet bowls scares her.

"But you love coffee" his own words come out almost childlike, a statement to disagree with her own assessment. She shifts now, pulling her body away from his and turning herself so that she is able to look at him.

"Well I guess I don't anymore" her response is harsh, probably harsher than she had intended. He sees that look in her eyes once again, the flash of panic, of fear that he does not understand. She grabs paper and wipes her mouth, "I need air" he thinks this is his cue to leave her but he isn't quite prepared to do so. He stands, knowing that at the least she will want to freshen herself up and trusts that she does not need his watchful eye but that so he leaves the ensuite but does not exit her room.

He waits for her. When she emerges, he sees a strange expression pass over her face on realising that he had not left as she had expected.

"I thought you'd left" she has regained her sense of self in those minutes apart. She steps closer towards him, trying to give him a look that tells him that this is what she wants, that he needs to be gone. Only he doesn't see it that way, he knows that would be the last thing either of them needs and so he tries to stand strong.

"I was thinking maybe we could go for a walk, maybe explore this place a bit" he gives her a smile, it's a hopeful smile which is hard to resist. The Maconie charm in full force, "You said you needed air" he adds, and she regrets her words. She isn't sure a walk by his side will quite bring the air she needs, that it won't deliver enough to her constricted lungs.

"I don't think that's a good idea" she doesn't want this, not now and yet he is still giving her that look. His smile brightens as he takes in her words.

"You're right, it's not a good idea" she cannot quite hide her surprise at this, given the words confliction with his expression, "It's a brilliant idea" he concludes and she cannot stop herself from rolling her eyes, "I'm gonna go grab some stuff from my room and we'll go" he doesn't give her chance to argue before he disappears.

* * *

They find themselves walking passed amusement arcades that they had somehow managed to miss the night before along with what appears to be a fairground of sorts nestled behind a railway tunnel. It's something that stirs the slightest of memories in Jac's mind as they pass by a large expanse of grass with posts which she imagines are used for tethering donkeys in the summer while up ahead she can make out a brick wall behind which she is certain the sea lies. They walk further towards the beach area, catching sight of a souvenir shop and another amusement arcade with numerous ride-on things outside. She thinks for a moment how in a couple of years, their child would dash towards these rides, begging them to let him or her on, dashing to the next almost before the first has finished. She desperately tries to push the thought away, not wanting to let herself dream quite yet.

"You seem to know where you're going" he speaks to break the silence, though it is a comfortable one. He needs to talk and this at least seems to be a way of breaking the ice a little. She comes to a halt by the stone wall, gazing out towards the sea and trying to take stock of his question.

"There's not really any other way to go" she answers, trying to sound convincing as she turns back to indicate the path which they have taken. She watches as he does much the same, before he turns to look at her. She knows he doesn't believe her though she doesn't quite get how he knows. She sighs, "I think I've been here before, a long time ago"

"Really?" he sounds surprised, although not knowing much of her life he cannot see her as having been brought to the beach as a child, or even having chosen to explore such places as an adult. She isn't the type of person to do that, and yet her vague familiarity with the place makes him think differently. She turns back out to the sea.

"A school trip, when I was maybe 7 or 8" she tries to think back to date it, but it's difficult. It's one of the few trips she went on, it must have been cheap because there was never money to pay for excursions not that the school had many. Still she had always felt left out being the child who had to stay behind at school while her classmates went off on outings. There is something about her tone, the way she says it that causes his heart to drop.

"Was it not a good trip?" he tries to question gently, not certain of what response he will gain or even whether she would talk. He thinks of school trips he had taken over the years, how they had larked about, caused havoc due to the exhilaration of being free from the confines of the classroom. He isn't quite sure how he managed to get through so many trips without letters being sent home due to their riotous behaviour.

"Depends how you look at it" it's a non-committed answer, and he knows she wants to leave it there but knows too that she needs to talk, that revealing even a little could help her in the long run. He turns out to look at the view as she does, sneaking a hand to rest on hers on the brick wall. He hopes he's done it in such a way it appears accidental.

"and how could I look at it?" there is a deep sigh as she realises that she isn't going to get out of this, though she is mildly grateful that it is this conversation and not another. They could be discussing other things, things that could bring up far worse memories, make her acknowledge far harder thoughts.

"For one it's the only trip I went on, so I have nothing to compare it too. I suppose it was fun" she doesn't remember much of the day's activities though she is certain she remembers those around her laughing, enjoying themselves as they ran about, getting wet in the sea – their feet sandy as they ran up the beach, "but there were difficult things too" while it was hard to be the child left behind, her school trip experience was almost as hard.

"How so?" he wants to turn to look at her but knows if he does she will probably freeze, it is safer to gaze out and watch the waves. There are few people on the beach, not surprising given children are in school and adults, for the most part, in work. Still there are a few individuals dotted around.

"Remember I told you at Christmas how we never had much money?" it's a rhetorical question and she cannot see him, but he nods all the same. He remembers so much of their time together, "well somehow she must have had enough for the trip but there was nothing left over for spending money. It's ridiculous, stupid, but watching the others buy things – sweets, little gifts, rides whatever – was hard when I couldn't and of course everyone noticed, asked why I wasn't having an ice cream and having to lie because I didn't want them to know the truth"

"Oh Jac" He tries to think of her aged seven. It's difficult to imagine her as anything other than a grown woman, he imagines that even as a child she probably had the manner of an adult forced upon her by life. He cannot imagine her acting as his sisters had done.

"It's stupid" she shakes her head. It's a ridiculous thing to remember, and she feels stupid for having told him. It's one of those things she had almost forgotten, and yet she remembers the feeling so clearly. She pushes away from the wall and starts to walk again, following the path around. They are flanked on one side by sand dunes, on the other the stone wall and it's beach background.

He follows her in silence. Eyes looking out towards the beach, he sees a young man and woman and he smiles watching them. The man carries with him a baby, whose age he cannot quite predict. He watches, his pace slowing. He reaches hesitantly out and takes Jac's arm, forcing her pace to slow until they both come to a halt.

"You know our baby will never feel like that right?" he thinks now that he can hear the laughter of the young child. It's like music to his ears, and he wonders if the younger version of the woman stood beside him had ever laughed in such a carefree manner.

"You don't know that" a shake of her head tells him that there is so much more going on in her head than he'll ever understand. Her eyes had come to rest, like his, on the young family; the way they interact, the love between them so evident even from a distance. She sighs, "You're probably right that the baby will want for nothing physically, I earn enough to buy it more than it'll need but it isn't just that .. just as for me it wasn't just not having the money, the physical things that came with it"

"I'm not sure I understand" she closes her eyes, blocking the sight of the young family. She knows his eyes are on her now, waiting for an answer which is unwilling to come. She knows too that he will not give up until she talks, that even if she walks away he will follow expecting more than she feels quite able to give.

"What if I can't love it?" she asks the question finally, eyes still tightly closed. He considers the question thinking of the woman he knows, how he had once referred to her as one of the least maternal women that he has known and yet there is something about her now that tells him his assessment wasn't quite right.

"You already do" the answer comes finally, and he thinks of how she had reacted when he had read the result from the plastic stick. The relief in her face as she'd discovered that it wasn't over, that their baby was still very much alive within her. She shakes her head, once more and he doesn't understand. So much appears to have changed in her head since that moment and he cannot comprehend it.

"I don't know that I do" her voice is small; sad and desperate.

"I saw your face, Jac, when you told me you'd been bleeding and again when I told you the result" he wants her to understand what he sees and yet she wears a mask so often it scares him that he could have been mistaken. He had thought in those moments he had seen the real Jac, that she had for once let him get closer to her.

"I don't know how I feel" the desperation lacing her tone tugs at his heart, "I want to love it, I think, I want to feel something towards it because this thing exists when I thought it never would and yet I don't want to feel because chances are something will happen, and then I will be left once more with nothing – just more pain and I'm not sure I can cope with anything more. Being a mother is something I don't think I've ever wanted – or not let myself want – and yet I was hoping that I still had it within me and that is stupid, idiotic because even if I did want it, I know I am not cut out for this"

"It's normal to be scared, Jac, scared that you'll struggle but when our baby is placed in your arms" he smiles at the thought of it. He isn't certain she'll let him be at the birth, but already he is thinking of the moment he will gaze at his baby for the first time, seeing him or her rested on their mother's chest.

"If I even get to that point" the words are whispered, she has opened her eyes and she has turned back to look at him. He blinks rapidly trying to make sense of that comment, "I'm not saying that I'd have a termination Jonny if that's what you're thinking, even with everything I don't think I could do that not when …" she pauses not quite sure how to finish that sentence so instead she takes another tact "but that still doesn't mean at the end of this there will be a baby"

"That's natural too, to worry but that doesn't mean you can't get excited because of the what ifs" he thinks for a moment, wracking his brain for information, anything that he can use, "Your risk is what 2 in 10 for a miscarriage, that means the likelihood of everything being absolutely fine is 80%, and I know we've had a little scare today but that's all it was a scare and our baby is still safe and secure inside of you and in what 8 and a bit months it'll be placed screaming in to your arms and despite hours of pain that labour has caused you, you will love that little person"

"It's not quite that simple" she wishes she could have his faith, his optimism for a future he already appears to have mapped out for them and yet she cannot allow herself that, not until the baby is in her arms can she allow herself to feel and by then she worries it will be too late. Months spent forcing herself not to bond with the child, will be detrimental when it is here and needs her love.

"Why?" his question is simple and yet it is one of the most difficult for her. There are so many ways in which it could be answered. The why for her risk factors, the why she cannot bring herself to feel, the why she has no belief in herself and her abilities. There are so many answers for one question, and he deserves them all.

"Nine weeks ago" she starts slowly wondering if his brain will allow him to twig the dates she is talking about, she turns back out to look at the sea. The young family have now retreated up the beach, building sandcastles which the baby destroys with glee, "I was told that my chances of conceiving were greatly reduced because I have endometriosis. I'd referred myself to gynae after those stupid pains, though I doubted anything was really wrong. I suppose I didn't want to think about the possibility that something could be and yet in the moment that word was spoken, so many things seemed to crash down around me. A fledgling relationship with a man who I had started to imagine a life with no longer seemed viable because I couldn't give him something he wanted, suddenly a desire I had denied having – or perhaps hadn't actually had – flared up because it was no longer as possible as it had been moments before. Suddenly those pains weren't just an agonising annoyance but a painful reminder of things lost that I hadn't even wanted"

"Jac, if I'd known" he hates that she went through this by herself, that he hadn't pushed her more to let him in though that would probably only have sped up the demise of their relationship. Still if he had known he could have tried harder to prevent it, wouldn't have said what he did though he would still have defended Tara. Poor Tara who had been the unwitting target of all the hurt the consultant had felt but been unable to share with anyone, so it had bubbled away inside of her until it had burst forth in anger projected at somebody who didn't deserve it, "children aren't everything, there are other ways of having a family. We could have worked something out"

"And then two weeks ago everything changed. A phonecall told me that in spite of that diagnosis, I was pregnant. That night you had called a mistake, had resulted in something that could be considered a miracle and I just didn't know how to react" she thinks of how she had been. The shock she had felt, that had numbed her to her very core, "I thought that I should protect it, did little things like not riding my bike and eating vile things that it seemed to want because that seemed right – like it was the normal thing to do but even then I was confused about how I would do this, because although I felt I had lost something there was a part of me that thought maybe it's for the best that I couldn't be a mother because – like you had said why would anyone want me for a mother"

"I didn't mean that" he shakes his head. His words coming back to haunt him, though he realises now that they have been tormenting her since the moment he had spoken them. That they added to the compilation of ideas in her head that have caused the distortion in her logic.

"Still said it though" the words come out childlike and she sighs with a shake of her head as the realisation of that dawns on her, "You had a point though, even if you claim you didn't mean it. I mean look at me Jonny, look at the way I am with people – no child deserves that. I should know"

"That's the person you pretend to be Jac, not the person you are"

"It's the person I am" she bites her lips, and clenches her fist, "I don't know how to love, how to feel. All I know is how to abandon and reject, how to push people away because I reason it is better for them that they are not tarnished by me. It's better that I hurt people before they hurt me, because in truth that is what they will do, but it isn't their fault not really because I force them to do it, because even the good in people can be turned by the bad in me. And the end result in all of this, even though I had tried to prevent it, is that I get hurt all the same. And I know that if I have it, that it will turn out the same way. I will hurt and pain the child because of my inability to love without conditions, in time the child will come to resent me but at the very least I hope that he or she will have you. That they will have the safest of your arms to run in to and all the love that you possess, eventually I presume the child will chose to stay with you – perhaps it would even be for the best if you were to take them from birth. I could have visitation maybe"

"No Jac, we raise our child together – even if we are not" he swallows hard "a couple we are still going to raise our baby together, not just visitations every so often but proper co-parenting. It might be difficult but we'll manage and our baby will know what it is to be loved by both their mother and father" in truth he would rather they raised their child as a couple, that is his ideal but he fears that it is never to be, not the way things are between them. He is not sure how any arrangement is going to work between them, and that scares him but he tries not to think of that. He only wants to think of the positives because there are enough negative thoughts already in her mind, without adding any of his own. She is shaking her head and he wishes he could stop her from repeating the motion.

"If I muck this up Jonny" he sees the fear in her eyes, knows in that moment that she feels so much more than she is willing to accept, "when I muck this up, what then?"

"You can't live each day, thinking you are going to destroy this" he risks placing an arm around her shoulder, "it'll only end up destroying you and the more you think it, the more likely it is to happen because you'll make it happen because for some reason in your head that seems 'right'. I don't mean that you see it as a good thing but you see it as the only option, the only thing that can happen and if it doesn't happen today then it will tomorrow or the next day. We all make mistakes, I'll make mistakes but I can't think about that now, they'll happen but I'm not going to dwell on what mistakes are to come because I cannot learn from them, I can only learn from the ones I've already made. You probably think I sound like a babbling idiot, but I need you to see this"

"For once in your life, you seem to be talking something resembling sense" a hint of a laugh in her words, as she allows herself to nestle against him, "but don't make a habit of it Maconie, I may have to start to actually listen to the crap you say"

"Ah I have my moments" He grins, the young man is now carrying his sleeping baby up to the pathway, the woman a few steps behind. Almost unconsciously, he feels his own hand sneak down on to her still flat abdomen and he smiles, "you know I'm happy about this don't you?"

"I think I do" she answers, raising a hand to push away a tear that decides to fall before he notices, "before I was so panicked that you're immediate response would be to deal with this, that you would reject the child just as I feared myself doing. I thought if you said that, that I would do it because with two parents already rejecting it at this early stage what hope did the child have. I barely entertained the idea that you would want it, because after all that night was a mistake and we … our situation is far from ideal"

"Maybe it isn't ideal, but we're having a baby together Jac" he smiles, and holds her just that little bit tighter.

"We're really going to do this aren't we?" she whispers, suddenly not quite believing this is real, that this reality only exists in this place and not the place to which they will return.

"We're really going to do this" he confirms before guiding her away from the wall edge and walking back towards the amusements and the shops, determined at the very least to get some food in to her and to keep her out of her head for a short time, long enough for her to enjoy herself and to relax in his company. For them to take advantage of the place in which they have found themselves, he wants to prove to her that they can still be happy together even if they aren't a couple.


	2. Chapter 2

**Right part 2 of the one-shot :D This entire fic (though it doesn't really come in to effect until this bit) was inspired by something got shared on facebook :D. It is honestly just fluff and I'm not sure the voices are right but hopefully it is ok :)**

"And what happens when we get back?" he questions gently, not wanting to ruin this time between them but needing to know all the same. They've had a good few hours together and now they've return to the path along the wall. She breathes deeply, breaths designed to steady her shaking nerves though he doubts their effectiveness.

"We keep things quiet" there is the slightest hint of an apology in her tone and for that he is surprised. It is the answer he expected, delivered in a way he did not. It is a tone he so rarely hears her adopt. She offers him the tiniest hint of a smile as she adds, "for a time"

He raises his eyebrows in a question he cannot quite bring himself to speak as the bubble of hope builds within. He needs clarity, needs to be able to stem that hope if need be to prevent further pain should her meaning not quite match what his no longer rational brain is thinking.

"It's just" she pauses for a moment trying to collect her own thoughts, trying to make sense of things that appear to make no sense at all. This all seems too good, a dream which will shatter as soon as they return to reality. Only this feels so much more real. Here she has less to prove, less to hide. Despite his assurances she has to prove herself and here, right now, that doesn't seem so impossible.

"Jac" he speaks her name softly, imploring her to continue. She blinks having not realised quite how long she had paused for.

"There's so much that could go wrong" she sighs and shakes her head slightly as her mind whirls. He frowns having returned to this aspect of the conversation once more, "I don't want their pseudo-sympathy knowing all the while as soon as my back is turned the barbed comments will resume" comments such as these would normally roll off of her back, the background commentary of her life to date but this is different. All ready it has twisted her emotions, left her mind dizzy and disorientated and despite efforts to prevent it already she has started to feel something for it. But she doesn't want to feel, worried that by feeling something she will jinx it; she fears it is too good for her and that like everything else she will destroy it.

"We can tell people when you're ready" he reassures her. He would love to shout it the news for all to hear but for her, he will zip his lips though he is certain it will pain him to do so especially with Mo, "though if you're not careful junior will give him or herself away" he adds with what he hopes is a cheeky smile – though he thinks of her aversion to coffee that morning – before a momentary look of horror passes across her face.

"I'm going to get fat" there is something like fear in her tone. The reality of losing control over her own body, of changing and seeing an unfamiliar form reflected in the mirror. Though she tends to hide her true self away, isn't sure she even knows who that person is a lot of the time further change to her own self-image is a terrifying prospect.

"Pregnant, not fat" he corrects her, thinking of the rough sketch he had found showing her round bellied from the growth of their child. He tries to picture her figure changing, already he sees a glow about her and he wonders how he had not picked up on it as even though he had tried to blind himself to her, she had always drawn his eye.

"That's just code for fat" she frowns, "fat and shiny. I'll be a sight"

"You'll look beautiful" he rests his hand over hers, imagines doing so when the skin is stretched taunt and he can feel movements – kicks and rolls – from beneath it. He sees disbelief in her face, "you always look beautiful" he feels daring speaking the words and he sees the shifting emotions in her face, the glisten of moisture in her eyes.

"and you must be blind Maconie" she speaks softly, though he can hear a forced edge to the words, an attempt at her normal manner which is betrayed by her emotions – something he is certain she'd blamed on their child rather than any real feelings she has, "I'll be booking you an appointment at Specsavers on your return" he laughs lightly trying to make it more of a joke though he is struck by the familiarity of the words, of how to anyone listening that would seem like something she would say to her partner.

"Blinded by your beauty perhaps" he concedes. This is probably true. He has always struggled with settling though he has dreamed of doing so. With those women whom he had dated, had mucked about with, he had found his eye wandering to other women and yet with Jac, he didn't – he only ever saw her.

"You're an idiot" she informs him, knowing he is only trying to make her feel better, because that is the type of person he is.

"and you cannot accept the truth" she shakes her head. She is not beautiful; can list every fault and imperfection. Someone like her cannot be beautiful and yet this man tells her she is and unlike those who came before him, she doesn't think the word have an ulterior motive though she still doesn't want to accept them.

"I would if you were telling the truth" the response comes quickly to her lips, and she sees the way he rolls his eyes at the losing battle he faces with her. To the world she is confident, self-esteem sky high and yet scrap the surface and she is so very different. She cannot see herself in anything other than a negative light and that destroys him because his Jac is nowhere near the person she sees.

"You just can't see it" he pulls her towards a bench, looking out towards the beach, "I want to tell you of a girl I know" she looks at him with a raised eyebrow, expects a story of one of his conquests. He gives her a smile as he takes her hand in his.

"This girl, I've not known her all that long but it feels like I've known her my entire life. It's funny that but true. Like she has always been a part of me, and I've had to find her. Only she's not been all that easy to find, because it hard to find this girl even when you know her. She's amazing see? Absolutely indescribably amazing. She's beautiful beyond belief, but her beauty is more than skin deep. On the surface, oh she is gorgeous, striking. Perhaps not classically beautiful but oh she is perfection. But she is real, she is not one of these plastic people who are false, their perfection paid for. No she is perfection in a way that is real and incredible, scars tell parts of her story and add to the person she is. Oh and her eyes, eyes that tell a million stories and yet speak no words. But that's kind of her all over, she struggles to tell her stories in words, and yet she tells them in other ways that don't quite give you the full picture. She's a mystery, an enigma. Beneath the surface, life has marked her, left scars that will never fully heal though with time and patience I think they can be fixed a little so they hurt her less. Only she is scared because the hurt proves she can feel, and if they are fixed, then she may become numbed. She may no longer feel. But even though she hurts, she hides it. Hides the pain, because it is easier to pretend that she doesn't feel, because then she has control over herself and the world around her. She needs control, because it is something she didn't have for a very long time, but control steals from her. She lets so much steal for her, because she is so very frightened of so many things. But fear is vulnerability, and vulnerability is weakness and that is her biggest fear of all. Only she could never be weak. Even at her most vulnerable, the moments when she struggles the most, there is a strength within her that I envy though I wish she could let someone in to help her because sometimes even the strongest person needs someone by their side. Even though this beautiful girl would never admit it" he pauses, breathless and sees the strange look on her face. The look that tells him that she doesn't quite understand what he has said, or that she doesn't want too. He squeezes her hand, "but despite of this, despite her not wanting to admit that she needs him, despite her trying to push him away, he loves her"

"I don't understand why this is relevant" he turns away from her for a moment, wishing she could see the truth in his words, that she could want to see them.

"Don't you want that, one day" his gaze comes to rest on a sight further up the pathway, she turns to follow the direction in which he looks, trying to understand what he is looking at and why she would want it.

"I still don't understand" she shakes her head, she isn't sure what she is looking at only that somehow it has affected him. This is why she doesn't deserve someone like him, he sees things she doesn't, is able to see beauty where she cannot. He sees beauty in even the small insignificant things, whereas beauty barely exists in her world and that which does practically has to knock her out in order for her to recognise it.

"Look at that couple, Jac" he points, and finally she can see what he is looking at though why it matters makes no sense. They are a couple. From this distance she can tell they are grey haired, an older couple. They are seated much like them on a bench though further up the pathway.

"what about them?" Still she struggles with their significance. She hears the sigh that escapes from Jonny's lips. She knows this disappoints him, that she cannot see this. This is why he deserves so much more.

"Wouldn't you like that? To still be sitting together, holding hands. Jac, look at them you can see how much they love each other despite a lifetime together and yet watch them and every so often she scolds him probably for something he has done for that lifetime and continues to do, see his smile as she does it because it is a habit" she watches the couple and in spite of herself she finds herself smiling at Jonny's assessment, he has to have been watching them for a while to have picked up on these things. She turns back to him.

"I don't deserve things like that" she shakes her head sadly. One day that older man will be Jonny and by his side will be a woman unlike herself, who has given him the love which he deserves. Perhaps they will have children together, half-siblings for her baby though it worries her. If he finds that woman, her child may be forgotten when theirs come along.

"That's the other thing about this girl, the one I was telling you about" he smiles, "she seems to think that nothing good can come for her, because she thinks she is bad, that she is damaged and evil. She has been taught this by life, and still believes it even though a man – who loves her – tells her differently. Even though he is honest and kind, and loves her still she believes the lies of those who did not know her in the way he does. He wants to teach her about the person he sees, he doesn't know everything, of why she is this way. He would listen to her story but he doesn't need to hear it because he knows the truth. And he thinks that one day, he would like to sit with her on a bench, her hair greyed and her skin wrinkled but still to him she will be the most beautiful girl in all the world. The most moody too by all accounts. But she will be his girl, his girl for ever more. And even when they sit old and grey, shouting because they can barely hear each other and yet somehow knowing what the other means they will know what it is to have been loved"

"It's a nice story, Jonny"

"Only it's not a story. Jac, I love you. You are the girl I have spent my life trying to find, who I will spend a lifetime chasing after if I have too because I love you"

"No you don't" she shakes her head once again, glancing back at the older couple before returning to look back at his face. His sweet, sweet face. She thinks that he thinks he loves her, maybe even believes it but it isn't a real love. It's a love built on a physical relationship, a love which now exists because they share responsibility for creating an embryo.

"I've loved you since I saw you at that stupid people skills course" he pulls a face before he flashes her a smile, "In spite of everything, I cannot stop loving you. I've tried to move on, but no other woman is ever going to compare to you Jac, how could they?" he dares to raise his hand to stroke the side of her face, he looks over his shoulder to see the older couple are watching them, sees the movement of their mouths and he wonders whether they are talking about him and Jac, as they had done about them.

"You could have so much more than me" she looks at him, "you could have any woman, a wonderful woman who will be everything you need and don't worry that I won't let you have access to our baby when you chose her, because you will always be daddy but I'm not the woman who you'll sit on that bench with"

"You are more than I could ever wish for" he holds her face in his hand, smiling, "You, me and our baby that is all that I want. Not some other woman who exists only in your head, because in my head the woman you describe is you"

"I'm not cut out to be that woman" she tries to argue, she wants more for him and yet she wants him. She wants him, loves him though she doesn't want to tell him that. She wants him to have perfection, and that means denying herself of him and yet he doesn't want to let go of her. She doesn't understand it.

"You already are that woman" he grins "one day that'll be us, and we'll be watching young 'uns like us now and thinking back to how we were on this day and I will remind you of how you once told me that would never be us – and you will, for once in your life, have to admit that I was right. The fact it'll take until we are in our 70s perhaps 80s is a little bit of a pain but it'll be worth the wait" he laughs lightly and she finds a slightly titter escape her own lips though she had tried to prevent it. He is the man who can make her laugh regardless.

"and when I am fat and crying because my hormones are entirely out of control and you catch sight of a woman in a short skirt who flirts with you shamelessly" she questions.

"I'll be trying to make you laugh and if all else fails I'll cry with you" he grins, "and we can enjoy your late night cravings together provided you don't go for wacky combinations, of course you'll lose the weight when the bub comes, while I'll be forced to the gym but we'll do it together" she laughs shaking her head at his idiocy and yet feeling so much affection towards him.

"and when I cannot talk, when my words dry up because I fear you knowing too much" she knows that one day he will want to know her story, that it'll come in drabs and that she will grow quiet as he waits for words that won't ever be forthcoming.

"Then we will sit together, quiet and safe in each-others arms" he wants nothing more than to hold her now, "and when you are ready to talk, I can listen"

"You know that one day I'll panic don't you, that I'll try to run?" she asks, fearing what she could one day do to him. He smiles softly, running his finger over the skin of her cheek. He wipes something away and she fears a tear has slipped free from her eyes.

"I can't promise I'll stop you" he says the words honestly, and she nods accepting. She knows that she'll push him beforehand, that she'll end up walking away and leaving. He wipes her cheek again, and gently leans forward, "I'll run with you instead" the words whispered in her ears. Tears fall more freely now as she realises his meaning.

"I love you" the words quiet, but truthful. Torn from her mouth, and spoken with a smile.

"and I love you" he places a kiss on her forehead, "and when you are ready, we will tell those back home that we are together, in love, and that we are going to be a family. We'll take it slow and if you need to cry, to shout, arms to hold you, or your feet itch to run – call me and I'll come. I'll come to you for the rest of our lives and one day when I need you I hope you'll come to me"

She submits herself to his arms, his hold. It is safe. The soft breeze coming off the sea and the whispers of the couple passing them, about young love. She is safe, and for once not alone. She rests her head against him, for the first time in a long time her mind stilled. For once she doesn't feel that ready to run, knowing that there is someone by her side willing to follow. His words ring in her ears, and she fears she cannot do what he can for her, and yet something in her is telling that maybe she can. She smiles, "I can't promise you, but I'll try" she whispers.

"That's all I ask" he whispers placing a kiss on the top of her head, hands coming to rest over her abdomen. She curls in to him, and for once she trusts the words.


End file.
